


Rooftop Conversations

by UselessReptileWrites



Category: The New Legends of Monkey (TV)
Genre: F/M, Food mention, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-28 16:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15053540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessReptileWrites/pseuds/UselessReptileWrites
Summary: After Davari’s defeat, the memories of everything that’s happened so far has hit Tripitaka. Fortunately, she isn’t quite alone in this.





	Rooftop Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm moving my fanfiction from my Tumblr over to here!
> 
> While this was fun to write (and it was fun to write again in general-I haven't been writing too much lately, but TNLOM really inspired me to get back in a way that took me by surprise) it was certainly tricky to try and get the characters to act in a way they might in canon. I'm still not sure I've succeeded. But this got such a positive response when I first posted it, and that really helped me feel better about writing.

“Thank you for letting us stay the night,” Tripitaka said to the married couple and their children. After everything the family had done to help them, offering them a place to stay was going above and beyond any expectations.

“It’s the least we could do,” Lusio said. “You rid this town of demons, deposed Davari–” she paused as Silver and Oak spat “–and brought hope to Jade Mountain.”

“And saved our children,” Shamai said. She saw on his face relief that she’d seen a lot of since the news spread about Davari’s downfall.

“We don’t know how we could ever thank you enough,” Lusio added.

“Well, letting us stay the night here is a good gesture,” Pigsy added, a little irreverently.

Sandy gently nudged his side with an elbow. “There’s no need to thank us,” she said. Still, Tripitaka could see the small grin of happiness on her face.

“We just need a place to stay while we mop up the rest of the demons here,” Monkey said. He was tapping his fingers on his staff as he leaned against it. No doubt he’d still be out there right now, trying to find out where Davari’s supporters had crawled off to, had it not been sunset, and if everyone hadn’t been awake and active from the previous day to that evening.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lusio said. “You’ll always be welcome in this house.”

The room they stayed in was small, with most of the walls hidden by crates of supplies for the family’s store. But there was enough room to spread out blankets, and after weeks out on the road that was a dream come true.

With assurances that this was perfect, and promises that they would call if they needed anything, the family bade them good night and left.

Tripitaka laid down on her area of floor, clutching the blanket close to her. In the dark, it was harder to see her friends, but slowly they stopped shifting around as much, and breaths slowed and softened, until she was confident that she was the only one left awake in the room, if not the whole house.

She tried to follow their example, slowing her own breathing and closing her eyes. Her mind was more rebellious than her lungs and eyes, however.

Beforehand, she’d had plenty of distractions to keep it from lingering like this. Plotting out the best path from scroll to scroll, trying hard not to wince whenever she heard someone say “he” or describe her as a man, yet fearing for the moment they didn’t, worry about what if something happened to her friends and it was her fault, her fault for not being good enough and for being the wrong person.

Now, in the quiet and relative safety of a room with all those worries, at least for the moment, neatly tied away, she was free to prod at injuries caused before she’d freed Monkey.

She had no home to go to, no family. The scholar was dead. Her home was gone. Not even a wall left standing. She didn’t even have the letter her mother had written.

Tripitaka realized that tears were starting force themselves out from between her eyelids, and her nose was starting to run. She was trying to keep her breathing quiet and even, but she couldn’t keep it up forever. And if she went downstairs, she might wake their hosts. Which left her no place to go but up.

She slowly sat up and glanced around. No one seemed awake. She felt relieved; she didn’t want to wake anyone up to this. She slid out from under her blankets and crept to the window. She slowly opened the window, occasionally glancing behind her. No one was sitting up, or even moving beyond breathing.

She opened the window just wide enough to shimmy out, and after she was on the roof closed it so that only her hand could fit under there. If her friends woke up in the middle of the night to a breeze and found her missing… Sandy did say even Monkey was upset by the last time she’d left.

_I’ll be quiet,_  she told herself,  _and make sure to get back in before anyone wakes up._

She scaled the roof slowly, though she was confident in her footholds. If she got too overconfident, she might fall, and she doubted her friends would want to wake up and see her hurt. More importantly, it would delay their quest, unless she managed to convince them to go on without her.

Even picking her way up, it didn’t take her long to reach the top of the roof. She slowly lowered herself onto the spine. Once she was settled and somewhat comfortable, she turned her gaze onto the city’s silhouettes.

The view from her perch was quite stunning. The torches that lit the streets weren’t visible, since Shamai’s and Lusio’s shop was the height of most other buildings. However, the flickering light they gave off was visible, tickling the roofs’ eaves, occasionally casting the shadow of a person on their business.  

In a way, Tripitaka thought, wiping a tear away with her sleeve, this was like she was upset back home. Something the scholar taught her just wasn’t clicking, or she learned of a branch of the resistance failing, or one of her books had a sad ending. She’d climb the nearby cliffs, throwing herself into a state of thinking of nothing but the next foot or hand hold, until she reached the top. She’d then sit at the cliff’s lip, dangling her feet, watching the tops of the trees sway and feel the wind in her hair.

The scholar would rarely remark on these excursions, but Tripitaka knew he knew about them. Quite often, she’d return to see he’d set aside one of her favorite fruits for her, or he’d assign her to reread and analyze a text she’d enjoyed in the past.

She realized her vision was blurred, and wiped away her tears a little rougher than needed.

“Tripitaka?”

Tripitaka nearly fell off the roof at the unexpected voice. Her next feeling was guilt, and a little embarrassment.

“Sorry, Monkey,” she whispered. She’d been sure she hadn’t woken anyone up on her ascent, but maybe the roof was a little thinner than she’d thought.

Not that it mattered now, as Monkey was climbing up the roof, a little more confidently than she had. He sat down next to her, squinting at her in the darkness.

“What are you doing up here?” he asked. He tilted his head a little more to the side, his nose twitching for a second.

“Trying not to wake anyone.” Not that she’d succeeded.

The answer seemed to make Monkey more confused than anything. He leaned back, face furrowed and eyes narrowed as he seemed to try and figure out what she said. “Yeah, but why are you trying not to wake anyone on the roof?” He gave the roof a small gesture.

“I needed some fresh air.” Tripitaka drew her knees up so she could set her chin on them.

She heard Monkey shift in his seat next to her. “Well, so do I.”

Tripitaka quickly glanced at him. He was facing the direction of the street, chin raised in that way that meant that he definitely wasn’t going to go back in anytime soon.

She quickly glanced away before he could look at her again.

For a moment, there was silence. Tripitaka didn’t want to upset Monkey or risk waking anyone else up, and Monkey clearly didn’t want to be the first to speak. Eventually, though, Monkey began to tap his foot against the shingles slowly, twirling his hairpin carelessly in the dark. She pretended not to see him glancing at her, and he seemed to avoid mentioning anything about her doing the same.

Finally, he gave a soft sigh. “I’m guessing you came out here because you were upset.” He sounded more confident than if he was just making a guess.

“Yeah.” She tried to pretend her voice wasn’t as hoarse as it sounded to her.

“And how can I help?”

As selfish as it was, Tripitaka wanted him to stay. But at the same time, she didn’t want him to stay up all night because of her.

“Tell you what,” Monkey said as he slipped his hairpin back in a pocket, “I wasn’t able to sleep, either, so we can just sit here in silence until we’re ready to go back in.”

Tripitaka blinked. “You couldn’t sleep?” She’d been so sure everyone had been sleeping when she’d gone onto the roof.

Monkey nodded. He didn’t seem to want to share the reason why, which was fair. She didn’t particularly feel like talking about why she was up there, either.

There was a pause in the conversation. It didn’t feel awkward, at least not for Tripitaka. She glanced at Monkey, but it often was hard to tell what he was thinking even in the light.

“I thought this place would’ve changed since the last time I’d been here.” If it hadn’t been for how quiet Monkey’s voice was, Tripitaka might’ve jumped. As it was, hearing him sound subdued nearly made her skin crawl with how unnatural it was. If she’d learned one thing about him in the weeks they’d traveled together, it was that if Monkey wasn’t full of energy, something was seriously wrong.

“It looked like this before…” She let herself trail off, realizing she was probably going to territory he wouldn’t want to discuss. Her peek into his past had distressed her, and not just because the Master had reminded her of the Scholar.

If Monkey had been upset by this, he didn’t show it, or at least she didn’t see it. He just nodded and scanned the rooftops surrounding them. It was if they were giants, sitting in the middle of a mountain range. “A little less rundown, maybe.” He pointed off toward the distance, on the verge of sight. “There used to be a monastery there. Guess Davari wasn’t too keen on having monks nearby.”

Tripitaka thought back to a monk she’d once met standing in a doorway. “Yeah.” She blinked and hoped that Monkey hadn’t noticed the extra tears.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him turn to glance at her. So much for that hope.

“Or maybe they just moved,” he suggested, sounding more like he was offering that out of desperation to cheer her up, not that he actually thought it. “Hard to meditate with demons around.” His nose twitched. “They  _stink_.”

Something in the way he said the last word made Tripitaka smile, just a bit.

Monkey must’ve noticed, because he jumped back in. “They really do. They smell like…” He twisted his face up as if he were smelling one right then. “They smell like that awful cactus you tried to feed us. Worse, even.”

That made Tripitaka smile, a little more, even if the motion made her shed a couple more tears. “That’s hard to believe.”

Monkey leaned back, a very good approximation of his offended posture on his face. “Do you think I’m joking? I’d never joke about just how awful demons reek.” He shook his head. “No matter where I go, I just can’t stop smelling it.” He reached over and patted her shoulder. “You humans have it better in that regard, for the moment.”

Tripitaka tried to wipe her eyes on her sleeve as discreetly as possible. “Thanks, Monkey.”

Monkey opened his mouth to say something.

“I knew I heard voices.”

Tripitaka glanced over where she heard the voice. It was Sandy, scrambling up onto the roof. Her guilt only increased when Pigsy’s curls poked up over the rooftop’s lip.

“Why’d you have to choose the hardest places to get to when you can’t sleep?” Pigsy grunted, hoisting himself up onto the roof. “You’d better have an easier way down.”

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” Pigsy muttered, and waved his hand like the apology was an annoying fly.

“If you were upset, you could’ve come to us, you know.” Sandy didn’t really sound that accusing, more gentle, as she settled down next to Tripitaka. “We’re your friends; we could’ve helped.”

“Because she’s as stubborn as Monkey.” Pigsy sat down next to Sandy.

Monkey leaned over to look past Tripitaka. “I’m not that stubborn!” He sounded ready to pick an argument, but at least he’d lowered his voice.

“Getting you to do something is like herding cats,” Sandy said. She winked at Tripitaka.

Monkey’s reaction–sitting up straight, shoulders tensing–reminded Tripitaka of the two cats the Scholar had once owned when she was young. They’d got along all right, most of the time, but sometimes the older one got annoyed by the younger one’s antics. More than once she’d caught the older cat, sitting tensely, glaring down at the younger one laying down at his paws.

“Did you come up here to cheer up Tripitaka, or make fun of me?” he asked.

“We can manage both.” Pigsy adjusted his seat. “So, what were you guys talking about?”

Tripitaka shrugged. “Monkey was telling me how much demons smelled, and how the world changed.” Or didn’t, sometimes.

“Two strange topics to be discussing together,” Sandy said. She sounded incredibly cheerful for someone woken up in the middle of the night.

They talked for a while, until finally Tripitaka only shed tears when she yawned.

“Think I’m going back in,” she said, feeling her eyes try to shut without her noticing. “We have a busy day tomorrow.”

She glanced around and saw everyone start to smile, but try to hide it.

“Think I will, too,” Sandy said casually, and stretched as she stood up. She turned to Monkey and Pigsy. “How about you?”

“Might try getting back to sleep,” Monkey mentioned.

“I won’t even have to try.” Pigsy dusted himself off as he, too, rose from his perch.

Sandy and Pigsy had left the window open, so it was easy to climb down and reenter the room. As Monkey swung down and into the house after Pigsy, attempting to start a small and muted argument over Pigsy getting back into the room first, Sandy turned to Tripitaka and put her hand on her shoulder.

“You feeling better?” she asked.

Tripitaka nodded and mustered a smile. It wasn’t so much a fight against her previous grief as against exhaustion, at least for the moment. “Yeah. Sorry for waking you up.”

“No need to apologize. Remember that we’re your friends.” Sandy’s voice was kind and gentle, barely a rebuke. “You can wake us up whenever you like. Isn’t that what friends do?”

Tripitaka nodded. “Yeah.”

Tripitaka settled back on her spot on the floor, and this time, she fell asleep to the sounds her friends made as they too settled back into slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is welcomed!


End file.
